


The habits formed by loving you

by JaebirdPikeri



Series: Habitually in love [2]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Can be read as collection of oneshots but all canon to each other, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25033819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaebirdPikeri/pseuds/JaebirdPikeri
Summary: Although it is connected to "Habits don't change (And neither does love)", each can be read separately. Unless specified in the notes of a chapter, each chapter can be read on it's own.A fluffy Ruthari collection where each story covers a moment that formed a habit in their relationship. Lot's of headcanon, obviously, since we know relatively little about them canonically.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Ethari/Runaan (The Dragon Prince), Lain/Tiadrin (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Habitually in love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812976
Comments: 32
Kudos: 133





	1. Ethari sleeps with his chest uncovered

**Author's Note:**

> Since this fic is non-linear, I'll try and specify a rough time-frame for each chapter. This one is fairly self explanatory but it takes place several years pre-canon when Ethari and Runaan are quite new to their relationship.

Runaan’s usually the one who has nightmares.

He’s been prone to them since childhood; on missions he always sleeps lightly to prevent them, more akin to meditation than actual sleep. As a child, his parents had little tolerance for them, so he learned to cry quietly. As an adult, they’d haunted his courtship, an hourglass he couldn’t turn so the sand ran out inescapably – how long until the show of weakness?

He’d tried to mission-sleep only when he and Ethari first spent nights together, which worked when they were just sleeping in the same bed but when they’d _slept_ together the moment of relaxed exhaustion had slipped into real sleep.

As usual, real sleep had meant falling into terror.

_Tonight his dreamed Silvergrove was burning and every house he raced to help he found the inhabitants bleeding out, their eyes wide and empty. He raced out into the woods, trying to assure himself it was just a dream only to wake with a jolt in his own bed._

_‘Hold on… Wasn’t I at Ethari’s?’ He frowned and headed out into the living room. It was engulfed in flames, his mother and father both pierced through the hearts. His father looked up at him._

_‘You didn’t help us for a silly dream? Weak Runaan.’_

‘Runaan?’

He lurched back to reality, sucking in air needily, tears of fear and shame wetting his cheeks and blurring the world. There was a distinctly familiar blur right next to him with Ethari’s voice and panic constricted his throat, cutting off the gasp.

_I don’t want him to see me like this!_

His lifted his arms to protect himself and heard a yelp and a thud and _by the moonlight I’ve just pushed him off the bed, how do I explain this, never mind that help him up, apologise you moron!_

His panicked monologue was cut off by gentle hands gripping his and pushing them down, soft lips grazing his wet cheeks and a soft coo:

‘It’s alright my dear one, just a dream.’ Ethari shifted, coaxing Runaan’s body closer to his. ‘We’re all safe.’

‘How did you- we?’ Runaan mumbled, hanging his head as though that might somehow undo Ethari seeing his shameful side.

‘You were apologising in your sleep; and you’re not one to be frightened by threat to yourself.’ Ethari shrugged and ducked down, pressing their foreheads together. There was no longer room to avoid his gaze and Runaan looked straight into warmth and concern. ‘You’ve never done this before… Is it the pressure of being in charge?’

‘No… I…um… I forgot to do something before bed that prevents them.’ Runaan admitted evasively.

Ethari cocked his head, frowning slightly. ‘Have you had to do that every night?’ He bit his lip guiltily. ‘Did I get in the way, being so clingy after…?’

‘No! The problem was, I was too relaxed!’ Runaan elaborated hastily, pressing their lips together in assurance. ‘Don’t stop being ‘clingy’ after next time, that was wonderful!’

Ethari blushed, his eyes fluttering slightly at the attention, then widening as he shook his head slightly, telling himself to focus. He wears his heart on his sleeve, as the saying goes, or more accurate painted on his face, crystal clear in its moods. He reaches up and gently clears away the trails left by the tears. ‘You said “too relaxed”… Does this happen a lot at home?’

‘I don’t share a room so it’s never been invasive.’ Runaan explained apologetically, flushing with shame. ‘I’d hoped to control it around you but…’ He trails off because Ethari’s soft looks have been replaced with an irritated pout. ‘Eta?’

‘Why?’ He cupped Runaan’s head in both hands and brought their foreheads back together. ‘Do you think I’m shallow enough to give up on a man because he understands that the world we live in is scary and out of our control?’

The air caught in Runaan’s throat yet again. Ethari had kissed away his tears without question, guessed the heart of his nightmare was failure to protect people from a murmured apology and simply _knowing_ Runaan’s heart and now he was saying that his big shameful secret may not _be_ shameful.

‘I don’t want to be weak around you… Not because I think you to be shallow, but because you deserve perfection…’ Runaan whispered. ‘And our people deserve perfection and I have to aspire to that.’

‘So you’d like to be a perfect assassin? That’s a shame.’ Ethari sighed dramatically, startling Runaan out of his gloomy spiral.

‘A shame?’ Runaan repeated incredulously.

Ethari shot him a cheeky smirk. ‘Don’t you know it’s _very_ sexy when an incredibly strong and disciplined man has a soft streak under all that steel?’ He purred.

Heat bloomed across Runaan’s face in shocked delight. Ethari was usually gentle to excess, even a little timid so seeing him tease and act a little cocky was… _enticing._

Then the smirk disappeared into a worried little frown. ‘See? I do it too. I know I’m supposed to be innocent and sweet and it’s… scary revealing that I’m more complex than that. The gentle Ethari is the one you fell for, so I worry… That things like that will ruin your image of me…’

‘Never!’ Runaan’s hands covered Ethari’s. ‘That was… I can’t even… I loved that!’ He was babbling now, desperate to clear away the worries.

Then Ethari looked him calmly in the eyes. ‘So I understand why you didn’t want me to know that you have a layer of fear under all your courage. But perhaps, seeing it yourself, you can believe that it just makes you more loveable.’ The soft gold flashed with mischief again. ‘And it really _is_ hot, Ru… The idea that all that strength doesn’t come from arrogantly assuming you’re invincible, but understanding the terror we face and resolving to fight it anyway? Ugh, why do we need sleep?’

Runaan laughed helplessly. He’d been neatly and completely played, bewitched by Ethari’s ever changing face and secret flavour. There was no room to argue his own diminished worth when his heart was swelling with more love than ever seeing a part of Ethari so different from the one he showed the world, the excitement of _this_ Ethari belonging just to him.

‘Don’t tempt me; I usually meditate rather than sleep because I’m ashamed of how often I wake crying.’ Runaan confessed.

‘Runaan!’ Ethari glared at him. ‘That’s _horrendous_ for your health, are you _trying_ to burn out in a century?!’

‘It’s only when I’m not alone!’ Runaan protested.

Ethari folded his arms. ‘So, I should never share a bed with you again if I want you to sleep?’

‘No!’ Runaan caught him around the waist and wrestled him down to the mattress. ‘Holding you in my arms is the only pleasure rest has ever brought me!’

Ethari caught him neatly in his arms and hit him with an upward glance, biting his lower lip just a little. ‘So, you’ll sleep here properly? Even if I see you cry?’

Runaan was beginning to suspect that if he married Ethari, he wouldn’t be having quite as much control as he’d been used to in previous attempts at dating. The thought was strangely thrilling.

‘I’ll try to sleep whenever we’re spending a night together, and trust you to protect me if I am beset by nightmares.’ He promised softly.

Ethari blushed and hid his face in Runaan’s neck. ‘Not _fair_ , Ru, you’re so smooth.’ He mumbled.

Runaan chuckled and curled hid body around Ethari’s, giving in to sleep once more.

It took a few months of experimenting – and a few weeks of Runaan struggling with feeling embarrassed – to learn that Runaan’s nightmares were best kept at bay by the percussion of Ethari’s heartbeat right beneath his ears, and so Ethari took to sleeping bare-chested, even in the depths of winter.

‘Eta! You’ll catch a chill!’

‘Then you better warm me up well, right?’


	2. Runaan leaves notes when he goes out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set post Habits don't change - for anyone who hasn't read that it's post canon, assumes that Runaan was safely freed, that human/elf relations improved after the war and that at some point during said war, an assassin broke into Silvergrove to try and kill Ethari because he makes the communicator arrows.

It’s so subtle, Runaan almost doesn’t see it. An extra tight hug when he walks back into the house after a jog, a mug replaced when he gets delayed by an old friend at the market, Ethari needing to change his scarf more often due to sweat.

He only finds out when they visit Katolis though. They’ve always communicated largely in gestures, especially in public, so when a shop window catches his eye down a side street, Runaan simply waves to indicate he’s stopping to check something out and drifts down. Ethari may follow or he may continue inspecting the human smiths’ work, whichever he fancies and Runaan doesn’t think twice about it.

Until he hears the commotion.

He catches the raised and overlapping voices in the direction he’s just left and sprints. Key words emerge as he draws closer _elf_ and _something wrong_. He dodges between them, resisting the urge to shove, and finds Ethari leaning on a wall for support, breath coming in little panicked gasps. The gap is closed in two steps and he folds his husband in his arms, sharply telling the humans to scatter. Ethari curls into him at once, fingers digging in painfully and horns poking Runaan in the chin as he tries to press against his neck.

He lifts the trembling form easily and hurries to the lodging Rayla and her humans have prepared in the city, waiting until they are alone in their room to talk. Ethari is hot-cheeked and hangdog, able neither to look him in the eye nor release him.

Runaan doesn’t push it, simply carrying him to the sturdiest chair and settling, resting Ethari on his lap. He strokes the soft white hair and waits patiently, occasionally murmuring endearments to him. Finally, the tremors stop and Ethari’s fingers uncurl from his arms.

‘I’m sorry.’ Ethari whispers, radiating guilt.

‘Why sorry?’ Runaan wracks his brains, unable to figure out what Ethari has possibly done “wrong”. ‘I’m kind of glad to be out of the bustle.’

‘I…’ Ethari bites his lip, scrunching up in shame.

‘Eta… We promised not to hide things from each other, remember?’ Runaan prompts him, still holding him close.

‘I… can’t calm down when I’m not certain where you are.’ Ethari admits, crimson with guilt.

Runaan blinks and processes this. ‘You never said this before…’

‘It’s very recent… Or maybe it’s only been a problem recently?’ Ethari muses out loud.

‘Talk to me, please?’ Runaan starts taking their shoes off, needing something to do with his hands.

‘It started… when you came back. You left to talk to your cousin and I didn’t really want to stay behind even though I _always_ leave you two be and I had work to do.’ Ethari begins his tale a month prior and Runaan’s first feeling is guilt that he hasn’t noticed for so long. ‘I just thought I was being a bit clingy so I kept quiet, I didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t leave me…’

‘I wouldn’t have minded.’ Runaan whispers.

‘We can’t live our lives in each other’s pockets. It’s unhealthy… Well, you came back and I felt fine and that was that. And then a few days later you started jogging in the mornings again and I couldn’t go back to sleep so I thought I’d get some work done but I ended up watching you from the window.’ Ethari flushes and Runaan reflects that this would be a cute reminder of their courtship if Ethari wasn’t so pained. ‘And then that kept happening. So after five days I told myself to stop being creepy and made myself leave the room but…’

Runaan tracks in his head. ‘Isn’t that the day you nearly knocked me over when I came home?’

‘Yes… I couldn’t focus the whole time. I just wanted to be sure that you were _safe_.’

 _Ahhh… That_ is _what this is._

‘Eta…’ Runaan begins but he’s cut off by a head shake.

‘I got a little better on my own… I could just say “He’s still in the village he’ll be home in…” well…’ Ethari groans and hides his face. ‘I got in the habit of counting the minutes.’

‘That’s-’

‘Pathetic? A little creepy? I agree. And then one day I was expecting you back at half eleven, but you didn’t come back. And I _knew_ you’d just be talking to someone, that nothing happened, except Silvergrove _isn’t_ impenetrable and if an assassin can get into our house they can get into our city and you could have been killed already and I wouldn’t know about it!’ Ethari’s gabbling his panic, shaking like a leaf in a storm. He unconsciously presses his hand to the scar on his side where the human assassin struck him.

Runaan holds him tighter, struggling to contain the dark blaze of anger in his gut. How _dare_ they corrupt the peace of his and Ethari’s home?

‘I was trying to make a cup of tea, to calm down, but my hands were shaking and I smashed it by accident. And so I couldn’t even work in case I hurt myself, I cut my hand just clearing the debris from the cup… But when you came back… It really was just something normal.’ Frustrated tears brim and spill down Ethari’s sharp cheekbones. ‘I don’t want you to feel like you can’t stop for an impromptu chat without your husband falling apart. But it’s getting _worse_ Ru. Today you were just out of sight. I _knew_ where you’d gone, I just lost line of sight, and then I couldn’t breathe and the world started spinning…’

‘It happens often to assassin’s and soldiers, love. It’s when your body learns fear too well and can no longer tell when it should or should not be afraid.’ Runaan kisses him tenderly and feels the tension leech out of his body.

‘Then what do I do?’ Ethari nuzzles into his neck, needy and nervous. ‘I used to be okay if I was at home.’

‘I thought you said it only happened recently?’ Runaan frowns.

‘Yes, before the war, if I started to feel like that it would go away if I found a distraction… Usually I’d make something to give you when you came back, and it never happened when you were just out and about, only on missions.’ Ethari frowns up in response. ‘You didn’t know? I assumed it would be normal in an assassin’s partner; you never know if they’re coming home after all.’

Runaan’s stomach knots itself, realising he’s underestimated for years the toll his work takes on his husband. ‘You are ridiculously strong, Ethari.’ He murmurs.

Ethari’s eyes widen. He knows Runaan too well to suspect empty flattery but it’s odd to be called strong when he feels weaker than he ever has. ‘What?’

‘You never let me see any of this… I thought you were fine.’ Runaan squeezes him protectively.

‘Well, it’s common sense. You know that your job is dangerous and that it’s terrifying to think you might not come home. I saw no need to whine at you when I’m the one who gets to wait safely at home.’ Ethari trembles again.

Intuitively, Runaan feels like the fears of his own death have entangled with Ethari feeling like their home is no longer secure. It reminds him of his nightmares, irrational but powerful, and perhaps this is what prompts him to move them from chair to bed, laying pressed up against each other.

‘You’ve done well, haven’t you?’ He comments, playing with Ethari’s hair.

‘It’s normal…’

‘It’s not normal. You’ve been enduring this for a long time, that’s so impressive Eta.’ His voice is low and tender, punctuating the words with soft kisses.

It isn’t enough alone, of course. When they get back to Silvergrove, they reinforce their home and Runaan insists on teaching Ethari some more advanced self defence. They try promises of returning at a certain time, matching bracelets to replace their lost pendants, Runaan leaving something recently worn with Ethari to leave his scent… It takes a few months before they find something that really seems to work. Runaan takes to leaving notes when he leaves the house, even if Ethari is right there to say goodbye to, and if Runaan sometimes comes home to find that note scrunched in Ethari’s hand like a talisman of protection, he simply draws his husband in and thanks him for enduring.

It’s a simple ritual, but one that seems to untie the shame from Ethari’s fears and let him manage them. They toss the notes in the fire together when Runaan comes home. (An addendum he suggested because he envisioned Ethari hoarding them as a superstitious safeguard.) Ethari always watches the paper until it dissolves into ash and then turns his back, demanding of Runaan attention and affection.

‘You’re like a teenager.’ Runaan teases one day as Ethari nibbles on his ear to get said attention.

‘You love it though.’ Ethari smirks, not even asking.

He’s right though; Runaan does.


	3. Only buying red apples (not green)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will literally take place the earliest in this fic since this is my spin on the first time they met XD As stated, they're in their early teens here so it's a couple of decades pre-series.

Not many people meet the love of their life at fourteen. Of course, most people don’t meet him by literally falling from the sky into his lap either.

Ethari had always loved sweet tastes, so when it came to the great apple debate he was always on Team Red not Team Green.

‘You’re so childish.’ Lain teased. ‘The green ones are better for you, you know?’

‘Only children deny their tastes to seem more mature.’ Ethari stuck his tongue out, undermining his dignified speech.

He and Lain had known each other their whole lives, having grown up in adjacent houses, and though they were now in different schools (Lain chose to go into Combat and Scouting, while Ethari was in Crafting and Enchantment) they still often spent time together.

‘You should come up to Crescent Orchard with us, Ethari; it’ll be fun. Besides, I want you to meet my friends.’ Lain grinned and tugged insistently on Ethari’s arm.

‘I should stay home and sketch for next week’s project, and I’ve never been up that way, and I’m supposed to be cooking tonight-’ Ethari gabbled through excuses, shyness flooding his stomach at the thought of a bunch of warriors staring and whispering about why the timid little smith was gate-crashing their afternoon.

‘Stop making excuses.’ Lain rolled his eyes. ‘You’re plenty prepared for next week, you won’t get lost because I’ll be there and your parents are out so you’re responsible for feeding yourself, you can just eat with us.’

‘Lain, I’m not _wanted_ there! You can’t just tell them “I like this guy so you have to be nice to him”!’ Ethari pulled himself free and scowled.

‘Why not? I mean, not exactly like that sure, but what’s wrong with saying “I’m friends with you guys and I’m friends with this guy so I want to hang out with both”?’ Lain sighed. ‘You know, Kialin won’t be there.’

Ethari scowled. ‘I’m not afraid of him.’

‘Didn’t say you were.’

‘…I’ll tag along for an hour, okay? But then if I still feel uncomfortable, I’m going home!’

Fifteen minutes into arrival, Ethari was already desperate to go home. It wasn’t that anyone was _unfriendly_ per se, but they kept drifting onto inside jokes and talking about training exercises, plus they all knew each other and nobody but Lain (who was distracted trying to get the attention of some girl named Tiadrin) knew Ethari.

He finally hit breaking point and slipped through the trees away from the noise and bustle. His head ached and he had a nervous compulsion to snack, so when he spotted the shiny red fruits above him, he impulsively scrambled up into the branches.

Nobody can grow up in Silvergrove without learning to climb trees, and in just a few short minutes he was high in the branches, sweet apple juice spilling into his mouth as he bit through the slightly waxy skin and crisp white flesh. He closed his eyes, focusing on the flavour to the extent of blocking out everything else.

 _Sweets are good for stress, stupid Lain, if anything adults need them_ more _than kids!_ He thought grumpily, eating down to the core and pocketing it to dispose of safely. Then a gust of wind snaked through the branches and ripped away his scarf, pulling it to a further branch.

Ethari smothered a swear word and studied the branches. The scarf was caught awkwardly, he’d have to wriggle along a thinner branch to reach it, but he wasn’t about to surrender his favourite accessory without a fight. He shuffled around the trunk and laid himself flat to the branch for stability, crawling along on his belly. All would have been perfect if the fabric had come free with a tug; however it clung tightly to a small fissure in the bark, jammed in further for getting pulled down.

Huffing in annoyance, Ethari sat up and starting trying to wriggle it free, having to lean slightly to get purchase, failing to notice that he was starting to put weight on the scarf itself… Until the bark holding it snapped off and he dropped.

He cried out as he fell, flailing his limbs, and next thing he knew he had a faceful of cotton and a groaning voice deeper than his own echoing in his ears. He blinked away his daze and realised he was sprawled on top of a boy around his own age, which would be embarrassing enough if he hadn’t been _gorgeous_.

Skin like white violet petals, sharp eyes the colour of the ocean under the summer sun, and long elegant fingers brushing through thick, glossy hair…

‘Did you hit your head or something? Get _off_ me please.’ He grumbled.

Ethari’s sound of apology could only be described as a squeak and he rolled off with such haste that he misjudged the tree’s roots and ended up face-down in the dirt after all.

_Hey, earth, I know you don’t normally talk to us Moonshadow elves but maybe you could just swallow me up here, so I don’t have to look like a total moron in front of the hot guy? No? Screw you!_

‘Are you alright?’ The boy now sounded alarmed and next thing Ethari knew he was being pulled up as easily as a fallen cloak. ‘Hey?’

‘Th-thanks you very much!’ Ethari blurted.

 _NOOOOOO! Why am I such an idiot! Say thank you very much or thanks, don’t mash them together!_ He howled internally, feeling his cheeks burn and being thankful that it probably wasn’t obvious.

The stranger smothered a chuckle. ‘I think I saw you earlier, with Lain?’

‘Maybe?’ _I was with Lain but I feel like I would have noticed him. But I can’t tell_ him _that or I’ll sound like a creep!_

‘Sorry for not introducing myself.’ The boy rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little uncertain. ‘They were all a bit… boisterous. I went for a walk.’

‘I know right!’ Ethari exploded into nervous babbling. ‘Lain dragged me along and I tried to tell him it wasn’t a good idea because I know _none_ of these people and they don’t know me and sure they seem nice and I probably could get along with most of them but that’s if they had a chance to get to know me which they don’t want to _do_ today because they came to hang out with friends they already have not make new ones and that’s really just completely okay, I get that, I’d probably be the same if one of my class dragged a random stranger along and I’m really sorry that I fell on you!’ Ethari finally inhaled, realising his tight-chestedness was now more to do with lack of air than the handsome boy staring at him like he’d just grown a fifth finger.

Then he burst out laughing and Ethari considered praying once more for the earth to swallow him.

‘Were you up there because you wanted apples?’ Handsome Stranger asked, smiling broadly.

‘Yes.’ Ethari figured it wasn’t technically a lie. He _had_ climbed the tree for the apples and he didn’t want to admit to crushing a guy for a scarf.

‘Hang on.’ Handsome turned and surged up the tree, giving Ethari a pleasant view. In mere seconds, he’d dropped back down, a perfectly ripe apple in each hand, one of which he proffered. ‘Here.’

‘Thanks.’ Ethari blushed more as he took it.

‘Most people would go for the green ones, you know.’ Handsome pointed out, biting into his own apple.

Ethari pulled a face. ‘The green ones are all tart; I like the sweet ones.’

To his surprise, the other boy flushed. ‘Me too.’

‘Runaan!’ The girl Lain had been pestering all day ran up, looking annoyed. ‘You can’t just skip out on everyone! This is why they think you’re stuck up!’

_So… His name is Runaan…_

‘Lay off, Tia.’ Runaan frowned, focussing on his apple. ‘…There’s too many of them.’

‘Do _not_ call me Tia.’ Tiadrin glared. ‘At least make an effort!’ She seemed to finally notice Ethari and blanched, taking in his scuffed clothes and messed up hair. ‘…Please tell me you didn’t fight with Lain’s friend!’

‘How bad do you think my temper is?!’ Runaan scowled and elbowed her. ‘He fell out of a tree on me so I got him an apple, okay?’

‘Hi, my name’s Ethari, sorry for keeping your friend from your group.’ Ethari smiled and held out his hand, availing himself to make a good impression since Tiadrin was clearly closer to Lain than she was showing. (Most of the group had referred to him as “that crafting apprentice”, rather than taking special note that he was “Lain’s friend”.)

‘Hi Ethari, thanks for keeping grumpy-butt here company.’ Tiadrin grinned and nudged Runaan who rolled his eyes and continued with his apple. ‘I swear, he’s nicer than he seems.’

‘Oh? He must be extremely nice then, so far he seems very sweet.’ Ethari hid his smile in his apple.

Several years later, Lain – enjoying an afternoon with the couple – happened to be raiding their kitchen for snacks and complained (loudly) about the absence of green apples.

‘I mean seriously! Would it be too much to ask for one patch of green in the whole bowl of red?’ Lain demanded.

Ethari and Runaan exchanged glances, both reminiscing.

‘We like the sweet ones best.’ Runaan shrugged, scooping two and holding one out to his husband.


	4. Runaan always carries pencils

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place literally the day after chapter three. Mostly because I wanted to show Runaan's first impressions of Ethari too XD

It’s not often a beautiful boy falls from the sky (okay, an apple tree) into your life. Every time Runaan closed his eyes, he recalled glossy mocha skin, rich golden eyes and a nervous, emotive babble.

 _Cute_. It wasn’t a word Runaan had used for his own opinion before but it was the only one that seemed to sum up the whole _air_ Ethari had; his changeable expressions, his over-thinking, his willingness to fall from a tree for a simple apple, the way he’d spaced out after falling without realising he was on top of someone… It all made Runaan feel protective and flustered and absurdly happy. He’d _smiled_ at a _stranger_. That hadn’t happened even once in his life!

‘Tiadrin… You said that guy who joined us was a friend of Lain’s, right?’ Runaan tried to sound casual.

‘Ethari, you mean? Yeah; they’re childhood friends so Lain brought him along. I don’t think he’ll come back though… He looked uncomfortable.’ Tiadrin concluded. She was not a girl of few words, but she _was_ a girl who spoke every word to a purpose, which was one of the reasons Runaan liked her so much.

_So… Ethari doesn’t like big groups or green apples, and he’s cute and a little shy and he seemed smart…_

‘What are you daydreaming about?’ Tiadrin nudged him, real concern hiding beneath the playfulness. ‘It’s not like you to space out.’

‘I wasn’t daydreaming; I was deciding if it makes sense to get to know him better!’ Runaan bluffed, hiding in the half-truth.

Tiadrin’s eyebrows arched. ‘Since when do you get to know someone of your own volition?’

‘…I was just considering.’ Runaan muttered.

~*~

It was the very next day that Runaan got a chance to meet the cute craftsman once more. They were coming out of a long training drill and there Ethari was, leaning on a tree and using a lunchbox to steady a sketchbook as he worked furiously.

‘Arrrgh! Ethari! Stop using my lunch as an easel!’ Lain exclaimed, rushing over.

‘Two minutes!’ Ethari whined, twisting to try and keep out of Lain’s grasp. He was chewing on his lower lip, pencil dancing across the paper.

Lain huffed, tapping his foot impatiently, but didn’t take his food by force.

Runaan drifted over, not really thinking why or what he planned to do once there. The page was filled with neat sketches and messy notes of some kind of bird-shaped arrow.

‘Okay, here you go whiny-guts.’ Ethari turned to hand Lain the lunchbox and accidentally thrust it into Runaan’s chest. His golden-brown eyes widened comically, lips forming a perfect circle of surprise, and a soft gasp slipped out. ‘You!’

Runaan clutched the lunchbox.

‘Um hey? Guys? My lunch?’ Lain looked between them, slightly concerned.

‘I DON’T THINK YOU’RE A WHINY GUTS!’ Ethari blurted in panic. He pointed effusively at Lain. ‘He’s the whiny-guts!’

‘Whiny guts is the whole damn reason you _met_ the guy you’re trying to give my lunch/your temporary easel to.’ Lain muttered resentfully. (Making Tiadrin – who was coming to investigate – snort with laughter.)

‘I got that.’ Runaan replied, shyness making his voice gruffer than intended.

Ethari shrank back, hiding behind his sketchbook. ‘Sorry… Enjoy the lunch!’ He fled through the trees.

‘Enjoy the- ETHARI THAT’S STILL _MY_ LUNCH DAMMIT!’ Lain shouted after the retreating figure. He turned to Runaan with a wry smile. ‘Sorry… He’s not actually as timid as he seems, he just thinks too quick to see what’s right in front of him…He’s probably concocted a hundred ways he might have pissed you off without considering that you’re just bad with people.’

‘…You’re outspoken.’ Runaan grumbled, unable to refute the “bad with people” accusation when he’d just frightened off the adorable elf he now felt even _more_ protective of.

‘I know right? My dad says it’s a bad quality for an assassin but I figure getting straight to the point is more of an asset really…’ Lain paused. ‘…Can I have my lunchbox now?’

Runaan handed over the greatly coveted lunchbox and spotted something lying in the grass. It was a pencil, customised with delicate runic carvings. He stooped to grab it. ‘Lain, I found your friend’s-’ But Lain was gone, disappearing before anyone else could take his lunchbox.

‘…You could go over and give it back.’ Tiadrin suggested, watching him and trying to keep her face grave.

Heat flooded Runaan’s cheeks. ‘…I have afternoon training. And Lain lives nearby… I might as well give it to him to hand back…’

‘Wow… I could _easily_ run to the crafting school and back before the end of lunch but I guess you’re too slow, huh?’ She smirked. ‘Want _me_ to take it?’

Runaan’s eyes narrowed. ‘I can handle it.’

‘You know you’re easily manipulated, right?’

‘…Screw you, Tia.’

‘Don’t call me Tia!’

Runaan ignored the expected protest, racing through the trees and taking a short cut across the market canopy. He dropped onto the balcony of the crafting school and slipped into an open window, knocking to announce his presence.

Ethari looked up, his glossy white hair a rumpled mess and his eyes troubled. ‘Hi! Can I help? Sorry, in the middle of a _thing_.’

‘You dropped this.’ Runaan held the pencil out, trying to keep his voice normal.

The smile that spread across Ethari’s face put the first shaft of moonlight cutting through the darkness to shame. The golden-eyed elf crossed the gap between them in two bounds, seized the pencil and impulsively embraced a shocked Runaan.

‘My hero!’ He exclaimed, squeezing the other boy ecstatically before releasing him and darting over to the desk, where he started scrawling at once. ‘I had the _best_ idea and could I find a pencil anywhere? No, I could not! I swear, I lose a hundred a day!’

And so, ever after, it was a fact of life in Silvergrove that Runaan always had a few pencils on his person – and that only one elf was allowed to take his last pencil.


	5. Ethari spirals (and Runaan helps)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is set less than a year after they meet, and is likely to be the last one set before they get together.

Sometimes, serendipity is a bountiful creature. When two pairs of old friends find themselves forming bonds of mutual attractions with no inconvenient crossovers, there is a pleasant epoch of time where it becomes easy to find excuses to meet as a foursome, to bond and flirt with friendly back up and lowered stakes.

It was six or seven months into such a bubble that Ethari found himself soaked to the bone and hiding from a vicious storm in a hollow caused by a dead tree falling on a mossy rock, practically on Runaan’s lap as they struggled to share the small space. It would have been delightful, had they been able to stop snapping at each other.

‘How do you get lost in this trail? It practically has a _path_.’ Runaan growled.

‘Nobody asked you to come running all over the place searching and fall over a tree root! And you all call _me_ the clumsy one!’ Ethari shot back. ‘This is ridiculous, I didn’t even want to come for a stupid nature hike!’

‘What the hell?! Then why exactly are we here, risking death by lightning, falling trees, random predators and who knows what else?!’ Runaan’s voice rose, as much to be heard over the falling rain as in anger, but Ethari was stung enough to say the first thing on his mind: the truth.

‘Because I wanted to spend time with _you,_ you obtuse, gorgeous misanthrope!’ He shouted, too enflamed to be embarrassed until he saw the pure shock on Runaan’s face and realised what he’d just revealed.

Ethari broke the eye contact first, staring out into the ground-level haze caused by the up-spray of the rain hitting the ground. There was no spin that could hide the meaning behind those words, the atmosphere too heavy to play it off as a joke and the juxtaposition of “obtuse” and “gorgeous” entirely too revealing. A sick panic tightened his gut, realising his hasty words might shatter the tentative bond they’d built. It spread, the possible fall out following through; he might lose his friendship with Tiadrin too, and then that would make it harder for her and Lain to hang out, Runaan would always remember him as the lovesick idiot whose crush had cost him use of his leg for who knows how long, assuming neither of them _did_ die from this, nor Lain or Tiadrin looking for them and _Oh lunar eclipses what if they kept looking through this storm?! Who knows what will happen to them?!_

‘You should’ve just asked.’ Runaan’s grunt broke his train of thought.

Ethari glanced nervously over and realised that Runaan was also determinedly facing the deluge outside their shelter, his pale cheeks stained almost tomato.

‘Asked what?’ Ethari had to consciously raise his voice above a whisper to be heard, and even then he wasn’t sure Runaan had caught the question with the flash of lighting that accompanied it, almost instantly followed by a crack of thunder and not-distant enough thud of a falling tree. Ethari shuddered, struggling to keep his breathing even as the ancient, magical force raged around them.

‘If you wanted to spend time together. We could’ve done something we both like.’ Runaan gently pressed his palm to Ethari’s clenched fist, coaxing it open to interlace their feelings.

‘I didn’t think you’d want to hang out if it was just us.’ Ethari admitted, lowering his voice to add. ‘I didn’t think it would go like this. I definitely didn’t think you’d end up hurt.’

‘…It was my fault. My leg.’ Runaan rubbed it gingerly. ‘I panicked.’

Ethari stiffened and hung his head. _Ah. That’s why he’s being nice about this. Pity. Because I’m always messing up in front of him, falling and losing things and getting lost…_

‘Ethari?’ Runaan frowned and leaned in slightly to touch Ethari’s cheek.

‘It’s okay.’ Ethari managed to meet his gaze with a smile. ‘I’ve been trying to be more… outgoing and assertive but I guess it doesn’t suit me. I just get into trouble and worry people… I’ve always been weak to social pressure, you know? When we get home safe, I’ll stop tagging along with you three, so you don’t need to keep looking after m-MMPH?’

His carefully constructed speech was cut off by cool, chapped lips pressing into his own. Runaan’s skin was as cold and damp as his own but the points of contact between them lit up with heat, sending Ethari’s head spinning. The percussion of the rain was drowned out by the thumps and roar of his own heart and blood. He stopped thinking, eyes fluttering closed, and as Runaan half drew away he moved forward, prolonging the kiss.

Runaan’s free hand moved up to cup his head, accidentally wringing out a little of the hair as his fingers tangled in it. The impulsive kiss blended into a series of exploratory ones, elemental forces of nature losing centre stage to their passionate chemical reaction.

The kisses may have outlasted the storm itself had they not moved their bodies closer together and Runaan, forgetting his injured leg, tried to brace against it and pull Ethari in. He hissed in pain at the sudden pressure and Ethari pulled away sharply, panic over-taking.

‘Oh shit, did I knock you?’ He babbled, shrinking back.

‘Ethari… Eta, _no_! Just… _stop_ a moment!’ Runaan grabbed his wrists and held on tightly.

They finally locked their gazes for the first time since Ethari’s accidental confession.

‘…Do I talk too much?’ Ethari asked, a little wryly. ‘It’s a common complaint.’

‘I _like_ hearing you talk… I just don’t like to hear you always blaming yourself and assuming you’re in the wrong or unwanted.’ Runaan impulsively lifted Ethari’s hands to his face and kissed the backs of his fingers. ‘ _How_ did you get from me panicking to the idea you shouldn’t hang out with us?’

Ethari blushed so hard he was half-surprised not to see steam rising from his person. ‘Because you wouldn’t panic like that if one of the other two got lost, would you? Because you trust them to have their own backs.’

He expected Runaan to look guilty, or possibly annoyed or patient. He was not expecting Runaan to turn from a solemn white to a frantic crimson in a heartbeat. ‘I… That…’ Runaan looked wildly left and right, gulped a couple of times and met his gaze with a painful openness. ‘You don’t get it, do you? It’s not that I trust you less, I just… I wasn’t _able_ to think clearly about the sensible way to handle this. I panicked because… it’s you. Because thinking of if something _did_ happen is unbearable.’

It was Ethari’s turn to nervously avoid Runaan’s eyes, because just as with his own hasty words, this time there was no misunderstanding the undertones in Runaan’s little speech.

‘…I’m sorry I scared you.’ Ethari had to lean in close to be heard, unable to project these words at a bold volume.

Runaan gently drew him in, encircling him in strong arms. ‘I’m sorry I snapped. I was… embarrassed. Because you _are_ capable and I felt like a fool, running around in a panic, getting us _both_ lost and injuring myself to boot.’

‘I’m sorry I snapped back. Truth is…’ Ethari winced at another flash-and-boom. ‘…I’m terrified of storms and I didn’t want you to think I was weak.’

‘I think we’ll be safe here; we’re low to ground and there’s nothing conductive in here.’ Runaan held him tighter.

‘Yeah.’ Ethari focussed more on the distraction of Runaan’s clinging clothes and the heat of his embrace, but it _did_ help.

Despite this mutual confession, flurry of first kisses and the pair’s prompt rescue once the storm broke, it would take a few more weeks until they managed a proper date and became “official”, but this incident marked one trend that would last their whole lives.

Runaan learned that when Ethari’s mind began to spiral into self-doubt, a sudden, heated kiss was the fastest way to break apart the doubts and make him listen to Runaan’s words of faith.


	6. Ethari designs for Runaan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure this one fully counts as a "habit" but I liked the idea too much not to write it. We're just under 20 years pre-series here, so Thunder is still alive and well.

It was very disconcerting, going to pick your boyfriend up for a date and finding him missing. Ethari’s mother had been very apologetic, confessing she wasn’t exactly sure where her son was, and had recommended Runaan go ask Lain, which was more that a little frustrating. He’d been dating Ethari for just over a year now, but there were still parts of his boyfriend’s life that Lain, as Best Childhood Friend, knew better than he did.

Sure enough, when Runaan explained the situation, Lain pulled an “ _It’s not surprising…”_ face.

‘Ah… I wondered if he’d snap out of it in time… Don’t be mad at him, okay? He’ll be in pieces when he realises he stood you up, without you guilting him.’ Lain shook his head, but behind his light tone, he was looking concerned.

‘Snap out of what?’ Runaan pressed, a little annoyed at the unsolicited advice. _I’d always hear him out first._

‘Today was the Amateur Showcase, where newbie designers can showcase their ideas to see if the Craftsmen’s Guild want to support them to make it. He’s in a funk because he got rejected again.’ Lain explained.

‘ _Again_?’ Runaan stared. ‘I knew that was today but… most apprentices don’t try to showcase until they’re at least twenty, right?’

‘I know! I’ve told him so many times: “They don’t take you seriously because you’re just a kid, take your time and wow them as an adult, don’t get a reputation as a pain in the ass now!”…’ Lain sghed deeply. ‘But Eta’s strong about the weirdest things. He believes his ideas are good so he won’t hold back… But then he’s weak about weird things too, and when he gets rejected he gets all depressed and hides away.’

‘…I’m going to find him.’ Runaan muttered.

‘That’s a bad idea… His temper is foul at times like this, if you track him down you’ll end up fighting!’ Lain interjected hastily, waving his hands.

Runaan chose to ignore this, and set off following Ethari’s trail. He was a skilled tracker and Ethari hadn’t been making much effort to move stealthily, so it didn’t take long to follow him out of Silvergrove and down to Adoraburr Meadow.

He found Ethari staring moodily into the pond, curled up into a ball around his sketchbook and glowering at the water’s surface.

‘Hey.’ Runaan greeted him simply before sitting next to him.

Ethari, in his usual expressive manner, managed to convey annoyance at being interrupted, confusion at the nature of the interruption and abject horror all before opening his mouth. ‘Our date! Shit! Shit shit shit, I’m so sorry, Runaan!’ He let his precious sketchbook fall to the dirt in his scramble to turn to face Runaan and grab his hands. ‘I lost track of time, I-’

Runaan used their clasped hands to tug Ethari forwards and cut off his rant with a soft kiss. ‘I’m not angry, but I’m worried… Lain said you’re having a bad day?’

Ethari tensed up and, unusually, shook Runaan off a little moodily. ‘No. I’m just reflecting on the laziness of our crafting guild.’

Runaan smothered a snort of laughter. ‘I never pegged you as a sore loser.’

Ethari rounded on him, amber eyes flashing like gold in a sunrise. ‘I’m not. If I lost because the other designs were better or more practical or what I wouldn’t care, but I only lost because of the effort required to make them!’

‘What do you mean?’ Runaan settled down, inwardly reflecting that there was something strangely compelling in this new, heated side of Ethari.

Ethar snatched up his sketchbook, flicked to a point and proffered it triumphantly. ‘About ten pages starting there.’

Runaan obligingly began studying the pages. The space had been used very efficiently, cramming several designs in. There were the bird arrows he’d been drawing since last year, which the annotation revealed would come with a homing spell to carry messages to a distant target, blades which dripped poison at the murmur of a incantation, boots that varied their tracks, cloaks that veiled the wearer’s voice and lastly a bow that dissembled into a pair of short-swords.

Ethari waited, now looking nervous.

‘…Can I be blunt? I don’t know what my opinion’s worth but… A lot of these _would_ be used by an assassin, so more than how to make them, I’m thinking about how to use them.’ Runaan finally spoke.

Ethari nodded, fixing him with an intensity and focus that left Runaan a little breathless.

‘I think things like the cloak and the boots and the poison dagger would work for a solo assassin, but Moonshadow Elves work in teams. The cloak makes it easier to lose track of each other if you can’t look directly at each other, the idea of the boots changing the tracks they leave at random is ingenious but with a group moving in unison the disharmony of those tracks would make them _more_ suspicious to a tracker and the dagger has a finite number of uses; if the team ends up having to exchange who uses it, individual members will lose track of how many are left and that’s a mistake that could be fatal.’ Runaan spoke hastily, nervously awaiting an explosion as he’d essentially trashed what must be months of work.

To his surprise, Ethari nodded again, very slowly this time. ‘So they need modification to make them more suitable for use in groups; possibly a version of the boots that can be commanded to change so you could sync up as a herd of deer or something. Or if the dagger had a visual display of how many times it could be used.’

It was Runaan’s turn to stare. He’d seen Ethari _draw_ , so the quality of the sketches was unsurprising, but he hadn’t seen this… practical creativity before. Ethari had immediately digested his suggestions and offered solutions. ‘…Yeah. That would make them… kind of perfect, actually. And… um… This one is more of an opinion than an objective assessment, but…’

‘But?’ Ethari cocked his head, his natural cuteness bubbling to the surface now that he was engaging again.

‘I think the bowblade is cool. I want to try it out. I don’t have an assessment of whether the space saved and the versatility would be worth the time cost of swapping modes, but I really want to use it.’ Runaan admitted, feeling like a child picking the coolest weapon over the one he knew was reliable.

Ethari’s whole face lit up and he chuckled slightly. ‘Well, that’s encouraging, since I drew that with you in mind.’

‘You did?’ Runaan felt himself blush.

‘I have a prototype back at the workshop but it’s not quite workable yet… I need the latch to be perfectly secure for bow mode.’ Ethari shuffled closer and leaned his head on Runaan’s shoulder. ‘I guess the Crafting Guild don’t always explain their reasons in detail. Haven’t heard a good argument against the arrows beyond “They’d be a lot of effort to enchant” though.’

‘That’s not a bad reason… We have other ways of sending a message.’ Runaan pointed out, happily putting his arm around Ethari’s torso.

‘This is faster. It’s not for everyday messages, it’s for major missions where we need to know if the target was killed before the team can get back to tell us.’ Ethari sighed. ‘Although I suppose they’d only become _really_ useful if we needed to carry out missions in the human kingdoms.’

‘Don’t give up on them.’ Runaan urged, dropping a kiss on his forehead. ‘They’re all clever and they reflect our natural abilities.’

Ethari’s eyes lit up. ‘Thank you! That’s exactly what I was going for! Equipment that took the natural advantages we have as Moonshadow elves and enhanced them! Like Sunforge blades, or Skywing wing runes!’

Runaan smiled and gently tugged a lock of Ethari’s hair. ‘You’re going to try again next year, huh?’

Ethari’s eyes blazed. ‘Of course. By then, I’ll have prototypes.’

‘Want me to come demonstrate them?’ Runaan offered impulsively.

Ethari blushed. ‘You’d do that?’

_At this point, I’m afraid of what I’d do just because you ask me._

‘Yeah, I will.’ Runaan promised, sealing it with a kiss.

Ethari would indeed go on to be a stellar craftsman among the Moonshadow Elves, known for his messenger arrows and the metal lilies that indicated life or death. His passion projects were almost always centred around one man though, and although it was never credited as one of his great designs the Bowblade was probably Ethari’s favourite creation.


	7. The second drawer down is for pants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is about 10 years pre series, probably a few months before Sarai's death. I've wanted to do some fluffy family-focused chapters for a while, so this one went through a few permutations before getting posted.

Married life with your best friends’ child was pretty delightful, but it certainly had its challenges, and one of those was the ceasefire on impromptu _intimate_ moments. Still, Rayla could be relied upon to drop off to sleep around dawn at which point there was a chance to make up for lost time.

It became very normal to them, exchanging heated kisses and eager touches as the dawn light painted the bedroom a soft gold. Often, there would be a steady escalation to a mutually satisfying conclusion.

Tonight, tantalisingly close to the final stretch, Runaan suddenly stiffened. ‘Footsteps!’

Ethari let loose a word he’d almost erased from his vocabulary in recent years and began frantically searching for wherever their pyjamas had been tossed in the earlier frenzy. Runaan was flat on his stomach, searching under the bed, and Ethari, having given up, was scrambling through socks and tunics in search of something vaguely trouser-ish, when there was an insistent but light rap on their door.

‘Runa! Eta!’ The small voice quivered.

‘I found my poxy shirt!’ Runaan groaned.

‘Catch!’ Ethari balled a pair of boxers and pelted them at Runaan.

‘Aren’t these yours?’

‘I just grabbed the first two pairs I could find now _hurry_!’

Hearing voices through the wood, Rayla called out louder, her voice breaking. ‘RUNA! ETA! Let me in! It a mergecy!

Pausing only to check Ethari had also managed to get his boxers in place, Runaan hurried across the room and pulled open the door. ‘Rayla, what happened?!’

Rayla froze, her stuffed moonstrider clasped tightly to her chest and violet eyes wide and red rimmed. ‘I… I heard a noise!’

‘What kind of noise?’ Runaan grabbed his bowblade from the bedside table.

‘It was… um… growly. And bumpy. So I came to make sure you safe.’ Rayla blurted.

Runaan fell silent, trying to figure out what might growl, bump _and_ find its way deep into Silvergrove.

Ethari smothered a smile and said gravely. ‘That was very kind of you, but I’m sure it’s gone now.’

‘Oh…’ Rayla’s lower lip trembled.

‘But since you came all this way to warn us, perhaps you’d like to stay… Just in case it comes back?’ Before Ethari had finished the word “case”, Rayla had run through Runaan’s legs, sprang up onto the bed as lightly as a cat and dived under the covers.

‘Good idea Eta.’ Two big violet eyes peeked over the hem of the duvet.

Runaan, understanding the fiction, raised his eyebrows at Ethari. He shot his husband a stern, _don’t be soft_ look.

Ethari calmly indicated the small bump in the covers.

‘Eta, Runa, you should go bedbye. Don’t wanna catch colds!’ Rayla squeaked, her knuckles whitening around the cloth.

Runaan sighed and padded over.

‘No jammies?’ Rayla cocked her head.

‘Not tonight… I spilled my juice on them.’ Ethari fibbed hastily.

Rayla nodded sympathetically and took advantage of him joining them in the bed to burrow between them.

‘Were you having dreams when you heard these noises Rayla?’ Ethari asked, calmly arranging them so Runaan could still lay against his heartbeat without dislodging their ward.

‘…Mayyyyybe.’ Rayla drew the word out with a guilty little pout _exactly_ like Tiadrin had in early childhood.

‘You know… it was very brave of you to come to see us after something that scary happened… Even if it _was_ a dream.’ Ethari smoothed her hair. ‘I get scared by my dreams, sometimes it even makes me cry.’

‘Moonshadda elves don’t get scared… Right Runa?’ Rayla parroted proudly.

Ethari’s lips twitched. ‘I think Runaan understands that nightmares can be _very_ scary. Right Runaan?’ He raised _his_ eyebrows this time.

Runaan flushed. ‘I suppose.’

‘Really?’ Rayla’s eyes widened comically.

‘…It’s okay to show fear if it’s just your family.’ Runaan gave in and wrapped an arm around her.

‘Even if it’s just a dream that scared you.’ Ethari clarified.

Rayla finally relaxed, going from rigid to asleep in less than five minutes.

‘…We shouldn’t coddle her.’ Runaan whispered.

‘She can’t learn to conquer fear if we don’t let her be afraid… It’ll be like her cereal. She’ll come to us for help and then one day she’ll suddenly start doing it on her own.’ Ethari murmured in reply.

‘…What if she can’t? What if she’s like me and plagued by them her whole life?’ Runaan bit his lip.

‘Then maybe if we don’t scold her for it, she won’t try to starve herself of sleep rather than admit she has them.’ Ethari reached out and stroked Runaan’s cheek ‘…She’s insecure, Runaan. She’s started to understand it’s not normal to be raised by your parents’ friends instead of your parents. She’s just making sure that her world is still safe.’

Runaan’s eyes flickered between the small form cradled in Ethari’s other arm and his husband’s sweet face, softer and more tender than he showed in public. _It’s not safe. The world isn’t safe at all. But I’ll protect you two, until the day I die_. He vowed silently, shifting to press a sweet kiss to Ethari’s lips, and a light peck to Rayla’s forehead.

She smiled in her sleep and Ethari’s whole face flooded with love and light, his arms tightening to hold them together.

It was a warm memory for all of them, and as predicted by Ethari, Rayla grew out of scrambling into their bed when she was plagued with bad dreams. Still, long after the last time she’d done it, Runaan and Ethari kept a spare pair of pyjama pants each in the second drawer of the bedside table. (Just in case.)


	8. Tell each other everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably between chapter six and chapter one, time wise? They're a couple of years into their relationship, not yet living together but starting to think about it, things are getting more serious... 
> 
> Also fun fact; I have finally been able to read the companion books! And they are delightful and insightful and I intend to add as much of their canon to this as possible - except for a big canon non-compliance I already discovered which is that Lain is primarily RUNAAN'S friend from childhood XD So at this point, the fic in general is a little bit AU as well as headcanon since new information came to light.

Ethari nibbled anxiously on his lower lip as he worked. It wasn’t the first “away” mission Runaan, Lain or Tiadrin had been assigned. It wasn’t even the first for all three of them at once, and in a way that was easier because although there was nobody to calm Ethari’s fears at least they were keeping each other safe. Despite all this, Ethari felt the familiar ache of constant fear the whole time they were away, a passive throb pervading all he did.

He was distracting himself by focussing on Runaan’s birthday present. He’d started using the time Runaan was away to work on them since they’d started spending nights together. It both prevented Runaan creeping up on him while he was at work and gave him something to focus on.

In previous years, he’d kept the handcrafted statuettes slightly light in form, a mouse, a moonstrider cub… Something a little cute that could be attributed to a hint of fun and fancy. This year, he planned to be a little bolder, his pencil sketching out the shape of an elegant songbird; a gift of pure romance. Such a declaration required some specialised materials though, so he planned to travel south to trade with the Earthblood elves for some jewels.

The journey there was simple enough; he hitched a ride with a larger party and made his barters with confidence and acumen. It was on the return that disaster struck; his Shadowpaw was startled by a fleeing deer cutting across its path and reared, Ethari lost his grip and fell to the ground and his shoulder struck a buried rock as it took the brunt of his weight. There were other small injuries; grazed skin on his side, a cut on his other arm from the tack, a bruise on his cheek where Kialin’s moonstrider wasn’t pulled to halt in time and it struck him – but it was the shoulder that still pained him when he woke the next morning.

Ethari wriggled out of his pyjama top with difficulty and inspected the swelling. It was an angry reddish purple, stiff enough to make it difficult for him to raise his arm, and tender enough that he felt nauseous whenever he moved it. He focussed on breathing deeply as he shuffled to the bathroom and tended to as much as he could one-handed. It was difficult to feel truly _clean_ when the effort of washing was causing sweat to bead on his skin and the building pain made his head swim a little but he managed to get reasonably fresh and neat.

Realising he couldn’t work but too nervous to idle, he devoted his morning to sorting his materials and organising his study. This was difficult enough that he debated reporting to a doctor but while he was considering, he heard the horn that meant a team had returned. He abandoned his studio, hurrying to the town square, his heart leaping as he picked out the familiar faces and plummeting as he found Runaan – pale, drawn and visibly bandaged under his shirt.

Ethari forced his way through the crowds, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder. ‘Runaan!’

The corners of Runaan’s mouth lifted and he left the cluster of warriors to take Ethari’s hands. ‘Always so fast.’

‘ _Runaan_!’ Exasperation – and fear – made Ethari’s voice crack. ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing big; I’ll tell you at home.’ Runaan hastened to assure him. Lain and Tiadrin exchanged looks, Lain’s reflecting frustration and guilt, Tiadrin’s reluctance but stubbornness.

‘…Fine.’ Ethari waited outside while the team reported on their mission, ignoring the amused looks he was getting for this open display of fear. He buried himself in plans to make home comfortable, reminding himself over and over that if Runaan _was_ home, it meant he was okay, injury aside.

‘Eta.’ Runaan’s arms wound around his waist and he drew him into a kiss. Ethari flinched slightly when his bad shoulder was jostled but covered it by pressing into the kiss, hardly daring to put his hands on his partner without knowing how and where he was hurt.

‘Welcome home.’ Ethari smiled brightly, drowning his anxieties to ease Runaan’s return. He turned to Lain and Tiadrin. ‘I know you often spend first nights back just you two, but would you like to come over for dinner? Save you cooking.’

‘Nah, we’ll leave you to talk.’ Lain shot Runaan a pointed look that set the fear in Ethari’s gut broiling once more, particularly as Runaan glared so coldly in response.

‘Sure.’ He managed to keep his smile up, carefully putting his good arm around Runaan to support him.

‘I’m _fine_ , Eta.’ Runaan insisted, shaking him off impatiently.

A spark of anger flickered in the back of Ethari’s mind but he silenced it sternly, pointing out that it was probably pain and fatigue making Runaan even more brusque than usual.

The evening passed tensely, with Ethari trying to get Runaan to talk about his injuries and work around his own shoulder without making a fuss. After all, a warrior’s field wounds naturally took precedence over a clumsy smith falling from a shadowpaw.

‘Will you _stop nagging!_ ’ Runaan finally blew at sundown. ‘You’re worse than my mother! It was no big deal and I’m going to _bed!_ ’ He stomped toward the bedroom door. Ethari got up, intending to calm things down, but blocked Runaan’s exit. Usually, Runaan moving him to the side would be nothing, it was always done gently, but tonight there was a rather key factor – Runaan didn’t know his partner was injured. He braced his hand on Ethari’s shoulder to urge him out of the way, unprepared for the sudden blanching of his face and whimper of pain.

At once, Runaan’s temper was blown apart by worry. ‘What happened to your arm?’ He demanded, already halfway down the buttons of the shirt.

‘Runaan! Quit that!’ Ethari tugged the fabric, covering his chest, cheeks crimson. ‘It’s just… Just a little bruise.’

‘You wouldn’t raise that much fuss over a little bruise!’

That little spark of anger that had been almost-quenched earlier finally kindled in the pile of annoyances that had built up over the day and blazed up to full height.

‘AND YOU WOULDN’T BE IN BLOOD-STAINED BANDAGES BECAUSE OF ‘NO BIG DEAL’ SO YOU’RE THE LAST PERSON WHO GETS TO INSIST I SHOW YOU WHEN YOU WON’T LET ME CHECK SO MUCH AS THE COVERINGS, LET ALONE THE WOUNDS, LET ALONE FINDING OUT HOW YOU GOT THEM!’

More than the words themselves, it was the sheer volume of them that hung in the air. Ethari rarely raised his voice, preferring to solve matters through calm discourse, and Runaan felt a keen sting of guilt.

‘I… I don’t want you getting worried over a freak accident.’ Runaan admitted, barely able to get the words out.

Ethari ran a hand through his own hair, a mixture of exasperation and affection on his face. ‘Of _course_ I’m worried Runaan! I love you, I will always worry that you’re going to get hurt or worse… But hiding that from me is only going to make it worse and… Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘You just said you… _y’know_ me.’ Runaan muttered, cheeks blazing.

‘…Well, yes. I do. Have for a while really. Didn’t mean to tell you like that though.’ Ethari tried to hide his embarrassment by hugging himself and winced as he thoughtlessly moved his bad arm.

‘Ethari…’ Runaan gently drew him in. ‘Please… I have to know what happened.’

‘…I’ll tell you if you promise to tell me?’ Ethari offered. Runaan nodded and Ethari continued, explaining the whole trip and accident.

‘Hmph.’ A stormy look crossed Runaan’s face. ‘You shouldn’t have been riding alone, if one of _my_ teams was on a job like that, we’d have had someone ride with you to stop that happening.’

Guilt and shame coiled in Ethari’s stomach. ‘Actually… I was supposed to.’ Seeing Runaan’s confused frown, he hastened to elaborate. ‘I was supposed to be riding alongside Kialin, from the Home Guard?’

‘He grew up in the same street as you and Lain, right?’ Runaan vaguely recalled him. He’d always found the man a little unpleasant but tried to be polite as his and Ethari’s families were close.

‘He’s never quite… Right with me.’ Ethari admitted, evading Runaan’s gaze. ‘He’s a little… aggressive? But also smarmy. I’m not comfortable around him so I was trying to ride ahead.’

Runaan’s scalp prickled and a savage streak hissed threats of violence, reading a worrying history in Ethari’s quiet words and defensive body language. _Focus on what you need to do._ He pressed a soft kiss to Ethari’s ear, making him squeak in surprise and peer up. ‘Fair enough… So your shoulder is still hurt?’

‘I think it’s just a bad bruise… I _was_ thinking about getting a second opinion but I got distracted by… well, you.’ He admitted, blushing.

Runaan’s arms tightened. ‘Why didn’t you _tell_ me?’

‘Because you were hurt! I didn’t have time to think about a bumped shoulder, I need to know what’s going on!’ Ethari blurted.

‘…We were attacked by humans.’ Runaan admitted.

Ethari’s blood ran cold. ‘Are you alright? Did they take anything for dark magic?!’

Runaan’s eyes stung sharply and he blinked fast to maintain composure. ‘They were trying to take a moonstrider cub. We managed to stop them getting the body but… it was killed.’

Ethari inhaled sharply. ‘That’s…’

‘Disgusting? Despicable? Exactly why they were thrown out of Xadia in the first place? Yes.’ Runaan took a deep breath. ‘They had an odd net they caught them in; weighted and with ropes rough enough to cut. I went in to free them but got tangled and it broke the skin in a few places. And one of the humans managed to break away from the group that the others were driving back, he was trying to grab the cub’s body, and we fought but I was trapped by the net and it made things difficult.’

Ethari, injured shoulder be damned, wrapped both arms around Runaan and hid a shower of tears in his neck, mourning the senseless loss of life and processing the near miss his lover and friends had experienced.

‘This is why I didn’t want to tell you!’ Runaan muttered, stroking Ethari’s hair. ‘You’re upset.’

‘Yes, I’m upset! This kind of thing is exactly why we need people like you to train as warriors and assassins! But if you don’t tell me, every time you leave I have to imagine the worst. I have to assume that those bandages could be hiding a fatal wound.’ Ethari bit his lip. ‘I have to assume it because otherwise I won’t cope when it _is_ the worst case.’

Runaan fell silent, mulling over these words. ‘…I suppose I get it. When I realised you were hurt and I hadn’t known, I felt… shaken.’

‘…I should have told you on my own. It just felt so… unimportant. You get injured fighting to save innocent lives, I get injured messing up something basic on a private errand…’ Ethari sighed, eyes downcast.

‘…Well, that “private errand” means a lot to me.’ Runaan rested their foreheads together. ‘I love those gifts. I use them to meditate when I’m on overnight assignment; picture the shelf and rearrange them all in my mind.’

Ethari smiled softly and touched the jewelled decoration on Runaan’s horn, reflecting on his private hope that having a piece of his work would keep Runaan safe somehow, that he could make up for not being there by adding to his equipment. ‘I’m glad they bring you joy.’

‘…You know that I … um… that I love you too, right?’ Runaan forced the words out with great effort, crimson with embarrassment.

Delight flooded every part of Ethari’s body from the tips of his horns to the pads of his toes and he kissed Runaan eagerly. ‘I do… But it’s nice to hear it sometimes.’

‘…Could you help me change these bandages?’ Runaan asked quietly.

‘Sure… And maybe you could check my back?’ Ethari replied, joining their hands.

Their policy of total honesty often made first-nights-back a bittersweet time, but the trust that resulted carried them through many mishaps. For you can only love someone when you’ve seen all that they are, even the weakest, ugliest parts, and accepted them.


	9. Hair styling (Part one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As implied by the title, this is officially the first two parter around one "habit" because this chapter took on a life of its own. It's set maybe a month, month and a half after Chapter 5. The intense teen-crush stage is fun to write, even as I set up for them to become steady adults XD

Sometimes, a single unremarkable incident is secretly the seed of something enduring and tender. The young couple had gone on a little café date for Moonberry Surprise, Runaan had walked Ethari home and they’d stopped in a sheltered grove for a kiss goodnight, as they’d done quite a lot over the past few weeks.

Unlike the last few weeks, this time Ethari’s hands were in Runaan’s hair, Runaan’s hands had somehow slid down from Ethari’s shoulders to the small of his back and as the kiss went on, it became natural to part lips, let tongues tangle. Runaan was quite proud that he was maintaining his composure through this – until Ethari let out a breathy sound, somewhere between a sigh and a squeak, and peeked at Runaan through his long pale lashes and abruptly Runaan didn’t care about composure anymore.

The kiss turned into many kisses, somehow standing turned to leaning on the trunk of a tree and Runaan drowned in exhilaration in a way he’d never done before. It reminded him of leaping through the treetops and breaking out into open air, that moment when you forget about having to land and what comes next and just _soar_. Except that moment was a single moment and this drew on as long as they wanted. His blood sizzled in his veins, and all his senses hyperfocused on the gorgeous elf in his arms.

A door slamming somewhere above their heads broke the spell. Snapping back to reality, Runaan realised that his hair was falling into his eyes where it had been rumpled out of its arrangement and Ethari’s lips were swollen and his own body was throbbing and Ethari’s eyes were blinking away a daze and _by the moon’s grace is there anything more beautiful than that boy?_

Runaan impulsive pulled Ethari back in and kissed his forehead. The tender gesture broke the exhilaration but Runaan couldn’t care less because Ethari’s responding beam practically split his face in two and he pressed eagerly into Runaan, arms around his neck.

‘We should… say goodnight…’ Runaan murmured reluctantly, seeing the fireflies begin to stir.

‘We should…’ Ethari sighed and blew his fringe out of his face with an adorable little pout. Runaan’s arms tightened reflexively and Ethari shot him a mischievous little grin that stirred his blood once more.

‘Maybe not… _right_ away.’ Runaan punctuated his sentence with another new kind of kiss he’d somehow just unlocked, chaste but… _inviting_.

A shy flush spread across Ethari’s cheeks and he bit down on his lower lip. ‘Are you sure you want to? It’s just… _me_ , you know?’

Runaan answered with a forceful kiss, letting his hands move up Ethari’s sides and pressing into him insistently, trying to convey with his body a depth of affection he couldn’t yet verbalise. Ethari responded at once and it wasn’t long before his hands were in Runaan’s hair once more. Runaan was _really_ starting to enjoy that, the gentle stimulation to his scalp and occasionally ears and horns, as well as feeling admired by the soft touches.

~*~

‘Hey, Runaan.’ Tiadrin commented as they were preparing for their training exercise. ‘Your hair’s getting long; want me to cut it for you?’

It was a fair question; Runaan had asked Tiadrin a couple of times a year since they were about ten, preferring her steadiness and willingness to let him barely talk to that of a hairdresser. Today, he played with the ends, currently hanging just below his chin. ‘Don’t bother. I think I’ll keep it long a while. I can tie it back.’

Tiadrin shot him an odd look, but Lain smothered a snigger.

‘Problem?’ Runaan demanded a little icily.

Lain just grinned good-naturedly. ‘I can’t tell if you’re being sweet or just like the attention.’

Runaan huffed and turned into the mirror, twisting his hair around his horns to keep it secure.

~*~

Coming back from training, Runaan spotted Ethari – who had started out waiting patiently, had an idea and was now drawing in the dirt. Oblivious to the fond smile curving his lips, Runaan approached silently.

‘Pencil?’ He offered, gently tapping Ethari’s ear with one he’d stashed in his pockets.

‘Thank you!’ Ethari produced a notebook from his inside pocket and began recreating his dirt sketch in more detail, some kind of ornamental lotus with a string of runes along the intricate web of the petals.

Runaan waited quietly as Ethari got whatever divine spark of inspiration had possessed him captured in paper. He studied his page for a moment, checking the details, snapped the book shut with a satisfied sigh, and then pounced on Runaan with a flurry of exaggerated, playful kisses.

‘Mwah! My hero!’ He half-teased, half-sincerely thanked his boyfriend.

Runaan couldn’t help laughing, catching Ethari’s arms and mock-wrestling him away. ‘Geddoff you little moon moth, always flapping about.’ He finished the tease with a kiss to Ethari’s cheek, accidentally displaying his hasty horn wraps.

Ethari chuckled and tapped one with a pencil. ‘ _Very_ creative… Fancy changing courses? I’ll show you the ropes.’

‘I don’t usually have it this long; had to get it out of my way.’ Runaan explained.

Ethari’s eyes lit up. ‘I could… I mean, if you want, obviously… But… Well, I have a bunch of clips and catches I’ve made so…’

A year ago, Runaan would have snorted at the idea of willingly letting someone dress him up. Now, he agreed at once, helpless to the delighted shine in Ethari’s eyes. He didn’t even really process that this would be his first time in Ethari’s home until the amber-eyed boy was holding the front door for him, still sparkling with glee.

He stalked tensely through, half expecting a barrage of questions. Perhaps this showed on his face because Ethari just laughed.

‘My parents probably won’t be home for ages, they’re both workaholics. It’s why its never an issue how late I stay out, sometimes they just camp at work.’ He explained, oblivious to the implications of _my parents aren’t home_.

Runaan smiled and followed him up to his room, reflecting on how the rest of the house was clearly someone else’s but this room could only be Ethari’s. It was outwardly chaotic, but still meticulously tidy, covered with prototypes and concept sketches and a cork board full of portraits that Ethari suddenly yelped and covered with his whole body.

‘Sorry! Wasn’t planning for a guest, just let me move this!’ He squeaked, blushing furiously.

Unable to help himself, Runaan smirked and caught his arms. ‘Come on now, it can’t be _that_ embarrassing.’

‘That… I…’ Ethari blinked up at him, crimson cheeked and nervous. ‘That’s not fair… You’re strong enough to just force me to show you, even though it’s embarrassing…’

 ** _That’s_** _not fair?! I’m nearly having a heart attack here, what in Xadia do you have to do to be that adorable and handsome at the same time?!_ Runaan felt his own face heat up and suddenly being so close to Ethari was _too much_ , so he swiped the corkboard and spun it away from Ethari’s grasp despite his protests. _Oh. Oh wow._

There was a decent assortment of regular sketches; a lot of Lain clowning around, a few group shots, a gorgeous capture of Tiadrin at her most serious, adoraburrs, a pile of moonstrider cubs, plans for a little jewelled mouse… But half the board was taken up with sketches of Runaan himself, close ups, action shots, imagined outfits and even a half nude pin up. Before Runaan could comment, he was alarmed by a high pitched noise.

Ethari was trembling, irises fully ringed with panicked white, apparently oblivious to the soft shrill he was emitting.

‘…You’re really good at this.’ Runaan gently handed back the cork board, aware his cheeks were burning.

Ethari clutched it like a shield. ‘…Are you going to hit me?’

‘WHAT THE HELL?! WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?!’ Runaan’s slightly smug feeling evaporated in sheer fear.

‘…Because it’s creepy. Drawing someone that much.’ Ethari’s shoulders slumped, all the light draining from his eyes until they were barely the colour of bark.

Runaan forgot his embarrassment, caught Ethari’s face gently in his hands and kissed him softly. ‘…I’m sorry for looking without your permission but _you_ have nothing to be ashamed of. These are amazing… To be honest, the only shocking thing is you don’t get bored doing so many of me.’

A blaze of impassioned light turned dry bark to burning sunset. ‘I could never get bored! You’re absolutely stunning Runaan; you have as many shades and moods as the moon itself!’ Then Ethari cut himself off, shooting Runaan another uncertain, nervous look.

‘That… I… expressing myself that frankly isn’t my strong suit but…’ Runaan gently caressed Ethari’s cheek. ‘You’re the most beautiful elf I’ve ever seen, the most beautiful sight in general. I _wish_ I had the patience to learn to draw like this.’

Ethari set the board aside and flung both arms around Runaan’s neck. They held each other tightly, until the faint tremors of Ethari’s body stopped completely and Runaan was completely satisfied that he no longer felt like a creep.

‘…You mentioned hair accessories?’ Runaan whispered.

‘Yeah.’ Ethari smiled shyly. ‘Take a seat and I’ll grab my box.’


	10. Hair styling (Part two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of an odd one in that a) it's the first one written that you directly have to have read chapter nine to know what's going on and b) it takes place in scenes scattered across many years.

It was something that, ever after, would be referred to as an “amazing trick” of Ethari’s. He would always answer with a restrained chuckle, cementing his image as unexpectedly tricky, but in reality he was just reflecting that it started as an impulse decision with no schemes but being considerate behind it.

Ethari always stayed silent unless spoken to when brushing someone else’s hair, because the first person he did it for was Runaan, who had often complained he fund stylists uncomfortable because they chattered too much. So, that day in his room, Ethari knelt behind Runaan, unwrapped his hair from his horns and started quietly combing through, gently untangling mats and knots.

For Runaan, the silence and tenderness seemed to soak up his guard. At first, he simply relaxed into the quiet but unexpectedly as it stretched, a desire to fill it bubbled up. Things that had sat beneath his surface thoughts floated up and without a conscious decision to confess slipped out:

‘I’m worried about you… That was a really strong reaction earlier.’

Ethari inhaled sharply, but half-mumbled his reply. ‘I just lost a friend when I was little because it creeped him out that I drew him a lot.’

‘So it was a kid who hit you?’ Runaan relaxed a little.

‘Mm-hm. He was ten, I was nine. I was pretty precocious; I _did_ have a bit of a crush on him and it made him uncomfortable. No big deal.’ Ethari punctuated his point with a comforting kiss to Runaan’s cheek.

‘And here I thought _I_ was your first love.’ Runaan quipped, appeased.

‘A crush isn’t love, handsome. That was baby blushies, this is full blown, heart-pounding, sky-diving feels.’ Ethari half joked, patiently smoothing out a stubborn tangle so softly that Runaan was barely aware it existed.

Neither of them thought much of it, at first. It wasn’t like Ethari always started their conversations otherwise, or that it was a particularly precious routine, it was a habit they got into almost incidentally and if Runaan noticed that his mind was clearer and his shoulders looser he certainly didn’t realise why.

Until the day, around three months into their relationship, that Runaan stopped talking altogether, walking around in a cloud of fury that very few people dared approach. Ethari, being timid, usually avoided people in obvious bad moods but something in him responded to a silent distress signal that seemed to permeate the rage.

He slipped to Runaan’s side and gently tapped his arm with the brush, smiling up at his boyfriend. ‘Shall we?’

Runaan narrowed his eyes. (Lain, who’d been watching with Tiadrin, braced himself to intervene.) Then he stalked to the nearest bench and knelt in front of it without a word. Ethari smiled and dropped onto said bench, approaching the familiar task with his usual quietness and gentleness.

For three full minutes, they sat in total silence, Ethari happily observing the stiffness in Runaan’s stance diminish little by little.

‘My dad’s a narrow-minded fart flower!’ Runaan suddenly burst out.

Ethari briefly paused, mid-brush, until Runaan peered over his shoulder, aggrieved by the pause. ‘What did he do?’

Runaan stewed for another minute. ‘…He thinks I should be “courting someone of more compatible interests”!’

Ethari tensed a little hearing this, but tried to focus on detangling without tugging.

‘He’s ridiculous! It doesn’t matter and even if it did it’s not his choice! I like _you_!’

‘He has a point.’ Ethari mumbled. ‘I’m never going to be there to protect you in a crisis.’

To his surprise, Runaan blushed so hard the tips of his ears reddened. ‘…I wouldn’t want my boyfriend on my mission if he was the best assassin in Silvergrove. I don’t think straight when it involves you, I make stupid decisions because keeping you safe overwrites everything. That would be dangerous on a mission.’

Ethari laid the brush down, slid off the bench and hugged Runaan tightly from behind.

Runaan wriggled around and kissed the top of his head, anger-fog now lifted. ‘…Sorry. Must have been weird.’

‘Nah.’ Ethari rested their heads together. ‘You’re too cute to be scary.’ He added with a smirk.

Runaan flushed. ‘…If anyone else said that, I would smack them.’

‘I know this.’

‘This is for the benefit of certain eavesdroppers who plan to refer to this later and pretend to be surprised when I whack them upside the head.’

Ethari laughed and pressed his lips to Runaan’s, then took advantage of his distraction to lightly knock their foreheads against each other. ‘Rude. That’s my best friend you’re threatening.’

Runaan grinned. ‘But which of us do you think takes advantage of that relationship _all the time_ for favours?’

‘Point taken.’ Ethari kissed him for real this time. ‘…You know, you don’t have to keep quiet when something pisses you off. I don’t think it happens a lot because you’re a grouch, I think it happens a lot because you’re attentive.’

‘I don’t enjoy talking about feelings, particularly my own.’ Runaan pulled a face.

‘Fair.’ Ethari replied mildly. Internally, he noticed that a lot of the times Runaan expressed himself was while having his hair styled.

He started consciously suggesting it when he thought Runaan might have something on his mind, and soon confirmed that it helped him speak out. Wary of scaring him off the idea, he held off pointing it out for years until one day Runaan and Lain came to him, very solemnly.

‘We need you to work your magic on Tiadrin.’ Runaan began.

‘She’s gone all weird on me, well on all of us.’ Lain ran a hand through his hair, worry for his wife lining his face.

‘What magic?’ Ethari asked, so bemused he accidentally cut his finger on the blade he was sharpening. This slowed the conversation while Runaan pancked and rushed for bandages and Ethari absently sucked the blood from his finger and nodded at Lain to continue.

‘The hair thing you do to Runaan; he says it’s amazing and impossible to keep quiet through.’ Lain explained.

‘All I’m doing is brushing his hair! There’s no magic involved! What do you think, I’ve secretly invented a Brush of Revealing?!’ Ethari waved his hands in panic, having one of them captured by Runaan who mercilessly disinfected the cut.

‘It’s not the brush, it’s you. Something about the silence and the calm… It compels me to speak.’ Runaan explained, kissing the skin around the newly applied bandage before releasing Ethari’s hand.

‘You want me to try brushing Tiadrin’s hair because you think she’ll tell me her secret worry?’ Ethari summarised incredulously.

‘Exactly!’ They chorused.

Ethari picked his moment well, casually offering help when Tiadrin started swearing tearfully at her hair. They sat in total silence as he brushed for almost fifteen minutes before she cracked.

‘Ethari?...’

‘Mm?’ Ethari made a small noise to acknowledge he was listening but carefully did not say anything that might steal the moment.

‘I think I’m pregnant!’ Tiadrin blurted, hugging her midriff.

‘That’s- wow!’ Ethari was unable to completely stay neutral. ‘…Have you told Lain?’

‘How can I? We’re not even married, we never talked about this, we’ve just started getting noticed for our skills… Why didn’t I plan this?!’ Ethari couldn’t see her face, but it sounded like Tiadrin was crying.

‘…I don’t think unplanned is always a bad thing. I planned to live my life avoiding the “athletic” crowd as much as I could after the Kialin thing, but if I’d done that I’d never even have met my husband.’ Ethari pointed out.

‘Except you would, because he’s my best friend and Lain’s your best friend, so we’d have met through Lain and I would have introduced you because you’re sweet and funny and the perfect person to bring Runaan out of his shell. Unplanned just meant you got longer together.’ Tiadrin pointed out at once.

Ethari smirked, glad she couldn’t see his smugness at how easily he’d guided her thoughts. ‘A little like your “unplanned” means you’ll get longer with your kid? You two might not have talked about it but… You never said that you don’t want this baby, and I know Lain’s always wanted to be a dad.’

‘…It’s not the same thing…’ Tiadrin muttered, a little sulkily.

‘You’re right, it’s not the same thing… but the fact is, this baby is coming. And if you _don’t_ want it now, I’ve got your back, but if you do and you just think you can’t have it… Then let’s sort it out.’ Ethari squeezed her shoulder. ‘…I think you should talk to someone else too before you make up your mind but… If you need time to sort it in your own head, then that’s okay. I won’t tell.’

Tiadrin peered over her shoulder. ‘…Would you tell them with me?’

‘Of course.’

‘Ad my parents?’

‘If they try to scold you, I’ll unleash my patented secret technique on them.’ Ethari joked.

Tiadrin finally smiled. ‘Deal.’

Tiadrin did in fact go on to have her baby, and in later life Lain would joke that Tiadrin once cried over giving birth to the saviour of all Xadia, a line guaranteed to net protests from both his wife and daughter, and later his grandchildren.

Ethari’s strange reputation for the power of his hair-brushing technique also grew, and over the years many other people would end up coming to him for help. (Though Runaan would occasionally assert his right to priority, claiming grumpily that half the reason he needed to vent was the string of people trying to steal his husband’s time.)


End file.
